


the highway signs say we're close

by estrella30



Category: One Direction, Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What?” Louis puts his burger down and leans forward so he can lower his voice. “Harry, I don’t—I don’t <i>fancy</i>, Nick Grimshaw, ugh. And I can assure you he doesn’t fancy me either. We’re…” </p>
<p>Louis bites his lip because what <i>are</i> he and Nick actually? They’ve been hanging out together more and more often lately but it’s mostly to eat and drink wine and slag off X Factor contestants. Nick’s home has custody of Louis’ favorite dog and maybe sometimes they seem to have fun together, but it’s not anything more than that. It’s certainly not any kind of <i>thing</i> like Harry’s set on implying.</p>
<p>or, the one where Louis dogsits for Aimee's dog and then people think they're dating and then they have to pretend to be boyfriends too</p>
            </blockquote>





	the highway signs say we're close

**Author's Note:**

> I talked about writing this fic in email with fiddleyoumust about three months ago and then for some reason never wrote it and then last week I got obsessed with the idea of it so now here it is lol. 
> 
> thanks to fiddleyoumust for all the input when we were originally talking about it and to sunsetmog for the amazing beta and britpick! any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> title from Stubborn Love by the lumineers

*

Most of the time when Louis thinks about his life and how he's wound up with four really decent lads as his best mates, he can’t actually believe his good luck. Not that Louis was ever a bad person, but he was always a little too loud, a little too boisterous. He’s had friends before and he’ll have Stan as his best, best mate forever, but to wind up with Liam and Harry and Zayn and Niall, well, _that_ is really something special. 

Louis is lucky to have them all, he knows he is, even if one of them can sometimes be the most irritating, annoying, whinging little _prat_ he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Aw, come on, Lou,” Harry wheedles for what seems like the hundredth time in half as many minutes. “ _Please_.”

Louis rolls his eyes and makes what he hopes is his most long-suffering sigh. “I still don’t understand how any of this is anything to do with me.”

“Well it’s not, of course,” Harry says. “It’s my fault. It’s allll my fault.” He’s staring at Louis from across the table trying to hypnotize Louis with his best sad puppy eyes. Louis will not be swayed. He’s dealt with Liam’s puppy dog eyes before and Harry has got a lot to learn. 

“I just don’t get why she can’t just leave the dog in kennels for the weekend,” Louis repeats because it’s the only thing that makes sense. “It’s a _dog_.”

“Thurston’s _not_ just a dog,” Harry insists and Louis has been caught in the loop of this conversation for the best part of an hour. He just wants it to be over. “And anyway, that’s not the point. The point is…” Harry bites his bottom lip and gives Louis the full force of his best pout. “The point is that I said I would watch the dog and then I made these plans with Gemma and I bloody forgot, all right? I forgot, and Nick and Aimee are away with every single one of their mates and I’m supposed to bloody dog sit and I can’t do it and I need you to help me. _Help me, Louis_.”

Louis leans back in his seat and kicks Harry’s foot under the table. The problem is there’s really no reason for him not to watch the stupid dog. They’re on a decently long break and all the others have plans already except for him. Plus now that Louis is single again, the idea of holing up with his mum and sisters in Doncaster seems less relaxing and more stifling. Trolling around in Nick Grimshaw’s posh flat and dipping all of his stuff in the toilet for a bit would kill a few days and also has a certain entertaining appeal. 

And then there’s the Harry factor. Louis does love having Harry Styles by the balls, is the thing. “So if I do this then you’re basically at my mercy, yeah?” 

Harry narrows his eyes. He drums his fingers on the table and huffs loudly, blowing the curls back from his face. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means that I watch Aimee’s dog in Nick’s flat for three days and in turn you’ll owe me whatever favor I want _whenever_ I want to collect it, is that right?” Louis is not doing this unless Harry _knows_ he owes him big in the future. "Right?"

Harry throws himself back in his chair and lets his arms flap loosely at his sides. Louis has got him, he knows he does. He polishes off his pint and cranes his neck trying to see how long the queue is at the bar. All around them people are in the pub, just doing normal, everyday stuff, but right now, sat before him, Harry Styles is in the process of owing Louis Tomlinson whatever favor Louis chooses for himself in the future. It’s a good day indeed.

“I suppose so,” Harry says, and Louis grins. 

“Then call Grimshaw and tell him I’ll do it.”

*

Nick is far more suspicious about the arrangement than Louis had anticipated him being. Louis grins at him brightly from the doorway but when Nick just stands there frowning, with his arms crossed over his chest, Louis rolls his eyes and shoulders past, walking inside and dropping his rucksack onto the floor. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Nicholas.” Louis looks around the flat and catalogues all the things he can fuck with while Nick is away. Maybe Harry was actually doing him a favor asking him to stay here. This could be the most amount of fun Louis’ had in a long while. 

Before Nick has a chance to say anything back, Aimee bounds out from one of the rooms, and throws her arms around Louis’ neck to hug him tightly. Louis has only met Aimee a handful of times, and hasn’t exchanged more than a few words with her. To say the hug is a bit awkward would be complimentary. 

“Louis!” He’s nearly deafened by the jangle of her bracelets. “Thank you so much for watching my baby for me!” 

“Um, you’re welcome?” Louis pats her back awkwardly. He disentangles himself and is nearly blinded by her smile. “I mean, I’m not really sure it’s the best idea to be honest—“

“Well at least we agree on something,” Nick drones from the doorway. 

Louis narrows his eyes. “And did you have a better solution, Grimshaw?” He grabs the strap of his rucksack and makes to sling it back over his shoulder. He’ll leave and spend the week drinking in a pub for all he cares. “Because honestly, I’d be fine going.”

“No!” Aimee stops him with a hand to his chest. Louis would attempt to get away but her fingernails are long and pointy and terrifying. “No, you can’t. Please don’t go; Grimmy will stop being a twat, I promise. Won’t you, Grimmy?”

Nick just huffs quietly and wanders into what Louis guesses is the kitchen from the glimpse of a kettle when he opens the door. 

Louis looks at Aimee, who raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “He’s just a bit anal about having people around all of his stuff.” Louis doesn’t really know what to say about that because to be honest, he’s exactly the same. The idea of having Nick staying at Louis’ flat while Louis isn’t there is enough to bring him out in a rash just thinking about it, so Louis can kind of understand where Nick is coming from. Maybe he’ll try and cut Nick a little slack.

“I understand,” Louis says and curls his arm around Aimee’s shoulders. “How about we give him a minute and you introduce me to the guest of honor, yeah?”

*

Thurston loves Louis. Aimee is thrilled because apparently it took him weeks to warm up to Harry, but all Louis needs to do is crouch down and feed Thurston a little bit of cold sausage he brought in his pocket to bribe him with and the next thing they all know, Thurston is cuddled into the crook of Louis’ arm while Aimee shows him around the rest of the flat. 

“I’m not surprised,” Louis says conversationally as Aimee points out where all the useful bits and pieces he might need are kept. “Harry’s a bit crap with animals.”

“You’re telling me,” Aimee rolls her eyes and bangs the airing cupboard closed with her hip. “Thurston hid in the corner for days after the first time Harry came round when I moved in.”

“Harry’s a twat,” Louis tells her as they wander down the hall into the kitchen. “Animals can sense that.”

Nick is leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, frowning. Louis has seriously had enough of his entire face. “Oh my god, who pissed in your Weetabix?”

“Maybe I’m not a fan of some obnoxious pop star slagging off one of my best mates in my own bathroom.” 

Louis blinks. “Even if your best mate is another equally obnoxious pop star?” Louis says. “One who actually double booked his holiday and left you stranded with no one to dogsit? Might want to take a look at your priorities there, mate.”

Nick seethes quietly while Aimee bustles around the flat grabbing their bags and passports and jackets. Louis stands in the kitchen with the dog still in his arms and beams at Nick, smiling his largest, toothiest smile. “So what exactly do I feed a hipster dog?” Louis asks. “Does he just get a bowl of ennui twice a day or is there actual dog food somewhere?”

“Oi!” Aimee shouts. “My dog’s not a hipster!” She pulls out Thurston’s bowl (which is shaped like a cat because it’s _ironic_ and oh god, this dog is _such_ a hipster) and shows Louis where all of his food is kept under the sink, and before Louis knows it they’re all packing up and getting ready to leave. 

“There’s a list of numbers by the fridge,” Nick says as he shrugs his jacket on. “Try not to set the flat on fire, yeah?”

“Well, bugger,” Louis huffs. “Now you’ve ruined all my fun for the night.”

“Be nice, the both of you.” Aimee zips her coat and steals Thurston from Louis to start kissing him all over his face. The dog looks like he’s preening. Louis has no idea what he’s gotten himself into. “Nick, say thank you to Louis.” 

“Thank you to Louis,” Nick parrots. Louis grins as brightly as he can. He will kill Nick with kindness if it’s the last thing he does.

“You’re welcome, Nicholas,” Louis singsongs. He takes Thurston back when Aimee hands him over, and Louis shoos them over to the door. Thurston makes little whimpering noises and Aimee is blowing him kisses and looking weepy, and Nick seems like he’s about to throw himself bodily into the flat and refuse to let Louis touch anything. By the time they actually leave, Louis’ head is pounding, and the dog is doing this weird doggy weeping thing and biting at Louis’ chin, and Louis has just enough time to silently curse Harry once more time before wandering back into the kitchen to feed the damn dog. 

*

“Your friend is a fucking wanker,” Louis tucks his mobile between his ear and shoulder and drags a kitchen chair over to the cupboard.

“What? Louis? What time is it?” Harry is fumbling with the phone and _good_ , Louis thinks meanly. He didn’t even take the time to calculate the time difference wherever Harry is so he hopes it’s the middle of the night. It would serve Harry right. 

“Your friend, Nick- bloody-wanker-pain-in-my-arse-Grimshaw, _sabotaged_ his kitchen cupboards.”

Harry is mumbling sleepily and Louis steps back from the counter to glare murderously into the cupboard.

The problem is that after Nick and Aimee left the night before, and Louis got Thurston settled with his food and a bowl of water, he was so knackered that he just phoned for a takeaway and ate his dinner straight from the foil trays with the wooden fork he'd found at the bottom of the delivery bag. After that, Louis had got busy deleting all the cookery programmes Nick had saved on Sky+, and setting it up to record as many horrible romcoms as he could find on the movie channels. By the time he'd finished _that_ , he'd been so tired he'd just fallen asleep on the sofa with a blanket over him until Thurston woke him up in the morning. 

Louis therefore hadn’t had any reason to go into any of the cupboards until he went searching for cereal, and then when he opened one, and then the next, and then the next, his blood started to boil. 

“They’re all empty, Haz. All of them are empty on the first two shelves.” Louis waits while Harry goes quiet and tries to figure out what that means, because presumably it’s the middle of the night where Harry is, and also because Harry can be a bit slow catching on to things at the best of times.

“On just the first two shelves?” Harry asks.

“Yes.” Louis pauses. “The bloody wanker took all the stuff from the first two shelves and shoved it _all_ up the top so I can’t reach anything without getting up on a chair or climbing up onto the counter.”

Harry sucks in a breath but Louis knows it’s more to keep from laughing than outrage. To be honest, if it hadn’t been directed at him, Louis would be a lot more impressed at the whole thing himself. Fucking Nick Grimshaw. 

“That’s, erm. That’s terrible, Lou.” Harry clears his throat. Louis narrows his eyes and tries to glare down the phone directly into Harry’s brain. “Really. Wow.” He whistles softly. “What a dick.”

“Oh, fuck you too, Styles,” Louis says, but by this point Harry’s outright laughing and Louis can’t help from joining in. Thurston bumps against his leg and whines. When Louis looks down he’s staring up at him with huge, unblinking doggy eyes. Louis sighs and tells Harry he has to go. “I suppose I've got to walk the bloody dog too, huh?”

“I would think so, yeah.”

Louis bangs his head against the cupboard door. The empty space inside causes it to echo nicely. “All right, I'm going. I’m sure there’s some kind of ironic hoodie around here or something that I’m supposed to dress him up in.”

Harry laughs and rings off, and Louis casts one more glare into the empty cupboards before taking a picture and sending it off to Nick with the caption: _you think you’re funny but remember, I’m the one living in your flat right now mate > ; ) _

*

Louis spends the rest of the day rearranging all of the clothes in Nick’s bedroom, and gluing all of his shoes to the bottom of the wardrobe. He’s dunked all of the toiletries Nick left at home into the toilet a few times and is just about to switch all of his albums into different sleeves when the house phone rings loud over the music from Louis’ iPod. Louis ignores it as he heads into Nick’s music room, but when over the answerphone clicks in (Nick still has an _actual answerphone_. He's such a hipster) and someone starts talking, his curiosity gets the best of him and he stands in the doorway to listen better. 

“Nick, honey, it’s mum. I’ve been ringing your mobile all day and can’t get through to you. Nothing’s wrong or anything but I could have sworn you said you’d be home all weekend so I was just making sure everything is all right?” There’s a pause and Louis makes a move toward the phone to do something - he’s not quite sure what - but it doesn’t matter anyway because his mum continues again before Louis even has a chance. “Oh well, anyway, I guess you’re out. Ring me tomorrow then, love! Ta!”

The line goes silent and Louis shrugs. He supposes he’ll text Nick in a bit and let him know his mum called, but for now he’s got lots of important business to attend to, so he turns up his iPod and sets off to wreak havoc with Nick’s record collection.

*

Louis is up early the next day and he feeds himself and Thurston before taking a quick shower. He gets dressed into a t-shirt and a pair of old jogging bottoms before heading down to a park with the dog. He brings a few of the chewed up rubber balls he finds in Thurston’s bin of toys and they have a grand time running around the park together, enjoying the rare morning sunshine and getting some fresh air, all without being rained on once. 

Louis actually loves hanging out with the dog. He gets along amazingly with animals in general, and Thurston is actually very chill for living with two neurotics like Aimee and Nick. They’ve definitely seemed to have hit it off. Louis is thrilled. At least if he’s had to spend a few days watching the dog and doing a favor for Harry, he’s managed to have some fun with it as well, not that Harry ever has to know that. As far as Harry is concerned, Louis would have been otherwise very busy so far during their time off (he wouldn’t have been) and he’s missing all sorts of fantastic parties and nights out by dog sitting (he’s not.)

Thurston runs around, and Louis plays catch for a while, and then they lie under a tree and maybe fall asleep for a bit. On the way home Louis stops and buys a bacon sandwich, and slips Thurston pieces of it for the rest of the walk, until Thurston is yipping and bouncing around happily and honestly, it’s one of the more relaxing morning’s Louis’ had in a long time.

When he walks into Nick’s flat the phone is ringing again, and Louis knows before the answerphone gets it that it’s Nick’s mum again.

“Nick, honey, I’m sorry, I just – I don’t mean to worry, I really don’t, but I still haven’t heard from you, and, well, I’m sure it’s nothing—“

She sounds nervous, is the thing, and as much as Nick can be a pain in the arse, Louis was brought up better than to leave his mum worrying about him needlessly. He’s out of breath by the time he leaps over to the phone but he really wants to get there before she hangs up again, and from the sound of her message she’s already starting to ring off. 

“—anyway, if you can manage to get a chance to ring me back I’d—“

“Hello?” Louis fumbles with the receiver for a second and Thurston yips as it starts to fall. “Ssh,” Louis scolds. “Heel. This isn’t a game. Go sit.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Nick’s mum says on the other end of the line. Louis slaps a palm to his forehead. This is a _fantastic_ first impression.

“No, no, sorry,” he says quickly. “I. I’ve got the dog and—ugh. Nevermind, sorry. Mrs. Grimshaw, yeah?”

Nick’s mum is quiet for a second and wow, Louis is amazed at how quickly he’s cocked this all up. “Yes?” she says slowly. “And this is?”

“Oh, right, sorry. This is Louis. I mean, I’m Louis, I’m the dogsitter.”

“Nick and Aimee have hired a _dogsitter_?” she sounds horrified. “They can’t walk that dog on their own? He weighs about half a stone.”

“Well if you’ve ever had him sat on your face first thing in the morning I can assure you he’s a lot heavier than that,” Louis says trying for cheeky but coming across more like he has _sex with dogs_ and my god, can this conversation possibly get any worse?

Nick’s mum gasps and Louis closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Right. Maybe let’s try this again,” Louis says. “I’m Louis and I’m a friend of Nick and Aimee’s. They’re away on holiday and I’m here at the flat to watch Thurston for them until they get back.” Nick’s mum is still quiet, not that Louis can blame her. He’s lucky she’s not ringing the police as they speak. 

“I thought Nick was away next weekend,” she says. Louis looks around the empty flat as if Nick is hiding around a corner ready to jump out and proclaim that this has all been some kind of elaborate wind-up. Like an episode of Big Brother gone horribly wrong. 

“No, I can assure you he’s definitely away this weekend,” Louis tells her and she _hmms_ quietly again. “I did hear your message last night, Mrs. Grimshaw, and I tried to ring Nick to let him know but he must be in an area with no reception, and I wasn’t able to get through either.”

“Oh,” she sounds surprised, and then pleased. “Well isn’t that nice of you, I do appreciate it. Thank you, dear. Now tell me, how did you come to be spending your free time sitting around and watching Aimee’s dog? Are you a good friend of my Nick’s? Are you one of Harry’s lot?”

Louis laughs. Thurston is still jumping around at his feet so Louis tucks the phone under his ear and fills Thurston a water dish and sets is on the floor where he slurps away happily. “I am one of Harry’s lot, I suppose. Or actually, he’s possibly one of my lot if you really think about it, no reason to go giving him all the credit, am I right?”

Nick’s mum laughs and Louis grins. It feels good to be back on even footing. 

They chat for a while longer and Louis assures her that Nick looked fine when he left and that they’d be back late the next day, and if he heard from Nick he would more than definitely pass along the message that his mum called to see how he was. 

“And oh, Louis, it was really quite lovely speaking to you,” she says. 

Louis smiles easily. “You as well,” he says politely, and she almost giggles at him and rings off. 

Louis puts the phone down and claps his hands loudly enough that Thurston barks and jumps around in circles because he thinks a new game is starting. “All right, T-Dog, let’s have some lunch and then a nap, how’s than sound?” From the way Thurston barks and then rubs his head against Louis’ ankle, Louis doesn't think he has any complaints. 

*

By the end of the third day, Louis has to admit something that he was vaguely worried about for the first two days, but that hadn't really hit home until he got the call from Nick that they’d just landed, and were heading back to the flat. 

Louis is going to _miss_ this stupid dog. 

“I’m sorry.” Louis stuffs his dirty clothes haphazardly into his rucksack instead of packing them neatly, because he’s too mopey to care much. He’d feel stupid about it, except Thurston must sense what’s going on because he’s been curled in a ball on Louis chest all day and has only moved now long enough to sit _inside_ Louis’ bag as if he wants Louis to take him home with him. Louis can’t say the idea hasn’t crossed his mind. “I’d take you with me if I could, T-Dog, but I’m pretty sure Aimee and Nick would miss you and while I’m sure I could kick Nick’s arse in a scuffle, Aimee scares the piss out of me.”

Thurston cocks his head to the side and whimpers. Louis knows how he feels. 

Just as he’s about to buckle down and remove Thurston from where he’s nesting despondently in a pile of dirty socks and t-shirts, Nick’s house phone rings. Louis pauses until the machine picks up, but this time when Nick’s mum starts talking it’s not Nick she’s talking to at all. 

“Louis, dear?” she says, her voice tinny over the machine. “Are you still there, sweetheart?”

Louis trips over a pair of his trainers on the floor as he grabs the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Grimshaw.”

“Pfft, please,” she quips. “Call me Eileen.”

“All right, then.” Louis says around a smile. “What can I do for you today, Eileen? Nick’s not arrived yet but he should be here soon; if you want I'll get him to ring you—“

“Oh no, that’s not why I’m calling,” she interrupts. “I mean, of course tell Nick I’d love to hear from him and see how his holiday was, but I was actually ringing to speak to you.”

“Oh?” Louis looks at Thurston, who is staring at him curiously. Louis shrugs. “You all right?”

“Yes, of course, I just wanted to say thank you for answering the phone yesterday when I called. I hate to be such a worrier, and I know Nick is an adult, but, well, he’s still my little boy if you know what I mean, and I would have been so worried if I hadn't heard from him after leaving all those messages.”

“Ah, not a problem at all,” Louis files away the little bit of information about Nick still being her little boy for mocking him at a later date. “I just imagined how my mum would feel if she were in the same position and I had to answer. Think nothing of it. And anyway, then I got to speak with you properly myself and find out just how lovely you are so it was a winning situation all around,” Louis can be really charming when he wants to be; he can almost feel Eileen’s smile through the phone.

“Oh, you are a cheeky one,” she says around a laugh. “And anyway, that’s why I was phoning.”

*

By the time Nick and Aimee arrive, Louis is ready to go home. He’s played with Thurston and hugged him on the sofa, and gone back through all of the things he’s mucked about with in Nick’s flat, and honestly, as much as he’s going to miss the dog he’ll be happy to be home and in his own bed as soon as possible. 

And if he sort of doesn’t want to still be here when Nick’s mum rings again, well that’s just a bonus. 

“Thurston!” Aimee bangs the front door open and bounds into the flat, Nick trailing wearily behind her with all the bags. Louis smiles at him a little from inside the doorway, and Nick manages to grin back. There’s some progress at least, Louis thinks. 

“You all right?” Louis grabs the bag from Nick’s shoulder and heaves a few suitcases into the hall. “Bloody hell, what did you two bring back with you, a bags of potatoes?”

“Aimee likes to _collect memories_ ,” Nick makes finger quotes in the air. He rolls his eyes and mutters, “It’d be nice if any of the memories she collected were _light_ but they all seem to be statues, and things made of rocks.”

“Oh, Thurston, my baby! Are you all right? Did you have a good time?” 

Thurston whimpers from where Aimee’s swinging him around the room and kisses him. The minute she puts him on the floor he bounds over to Louis and starts bumping his head against Louis’s feet for Louis to pick him up. Louis does, and smiles sheepishly. “We sort of bonded while you two were away.”

Aimee’s face is bright pink and she’s got her hand pressed to her mouth and happy tears in her eyes. Nick looks only a little confused as to how Louis and the dog are apparently in love after three days, but Louis is all right with that. He figures as long as he managed to get to the dog to like him better than Nick _and_ Harry he’s considering it a win.

“So did you have a nice time?” Louis has got the dog curled into the crook of his arm. He wanders around the flat grabbing his bag and his keys because as it is, he’s on borrowed time. He needs to get out quick. Make a clean break. Escape before the bloody phone rings because Louis needs a bit of distance between him and Nick before Nick’s mum calls back. A few streets at least, or maybe all England and Wales and Scotland combined.

“It was so lovely,” Aimee sighs and starts fussing with the kettle. “We had such a grand time, right, Nick?”

Nick starts telling Louis that they did have a grand time, and did Louis want to see photos? Had he been following Nick’s Instagram? And he wasn’t really cross about the kitchen cupboard thing, was he? Louis had to know Nick was just taking the piss.

“Oh yeah, no, that was a regular laugh right there, Grimshaw,” Louis gives the dog one last kiss on the head and puts him down. He makes a quick grab for his bag and keys and says, “So anyway, I’ve really got to get going. Check on the old flat of my own, you know how it goes—“

The phone starts ringing and Louis feels his heartbeat kick into overdrive.

“Hello?” Nick answers before his breaking into a wide grin. “Hi, mum! I just got in, yeah!”

“Erm, anyway,” Louis edges closer toward the door. “I’ll just be—“

“Wait, Louis you can’t leave, I’ve got a souvenier for you!” Aimee roots through her bag and Louis can still hear Nick on the phone; _yes, the holiday was fantastic. The weather was great, yeah. Yes, of course I took loads of photos_. 

“Really, Aimee, don’t worry,” Louis says. Thurston is whimpering by his feet and Aimee reaches out, digging her fingers into Louis’ forearm to keep him from leaving. “No, really, it won’t take more than a tick, just hang on—“

“No, actually, he didn’t mention he'd spoken to you,” Louis hears Nick say. He whips his head up and Nick is already looking at him suspiciously. Louis would laugh if he had any breath left in his chest. Nick has no idea what’s about to hit him.

“Just one more second, lemme check in my tampon bag. I mean, I don’t _think_ I put it in there but you never know, right-“

“Yes, well sure, he’s definitely a top lad, that Louis Tomlinson.” Louis tries to pull his arm back but Aimee just digs in harder, her nails pressing moon shapes into his skin. Nick’s walking over to where they’re all stood and honestly, Louis might as well just give up. He’s not escaping and there’s no reason to try. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t _think_ a good place for a souvenier would be in with my girly bits—“

“Yeah, I remember auntie Judy and uncle Steve’s party—“

“—but I can’t think of anywhere else it might be—“

“—it’s in Oldham, right? I don't have to, like, drive for an hour and a half after I get to yours?”

“—maybe if I just empty it out—“

“—YOU DID WHAT?”

“Ah ha!” Aimee shouts happily holding her arm over her head like she’s presenting a bloody award. “Here it is; your shot glass!”

Nick is holding the phone against his chest and glaring at Louis to the point that Louis is happy he’s not burst into flames. “My mum asked you to go with me to my auntie Judy and uncle Steve's silver wedding party, and you said _yes_?” 

Louis takes the glass from Aimee’s hand and beams at Nick. “I did,” he answers and tilts the glass in Nick’s direction. “Shots, mate?”

*

Louis spends the majority of the next day straightening up his flat and dodging increasingly threatening text messages from Nick.

_just took me twenty minutes to find a pair of socks. Cheers._

_Oh, and the closet too. Cheeky._

_MY RECORDS? YOU ACTUALLY FUCKED WITH MY RECORDS???_

_Ha_

_Haha_

_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA_

And then nothing but a picture of Nick holding up his toothbrush and glowering at the phone with the caption: _should I ever use this again?_

_wouldn't like to say, mate. Does it smell like toilet duck? : )_ Louis texts back and then laughs for half an hour when the next picture he receives is of all of Nick’s toiletries tossed into the rubbish bin.

And it’s amazing, it really is. Louis should feel a lot better about the fact that he managed to ruin Nick’s day so completely, and he would if he could just get this nagging feeling to go away. This inconvenient voice in his head that sounds a lot like someone whispering: _the dog. You miss the stupid dog_.

“That’s ridiculous,” Louis mutters to himself. He’s sat on the sofa scrolling up through channels on the telly to try and find something to watch for half an hour to kill some time because he’s bored. Maybe he should get a pet himself. Not a dog, obviously, he’s away so often and they need constant care, but maybe something a little easier. A turtle might be good. Liam’s got turtles, maybe Louis will ask him how that’s been going for him the next time he sees him. 

Or possibly it’s time to go out and get some fresh air, if Louis is seriously entertaining the thought of getting a pet turtle just because he’s bored.

Louis’ mobile buzzes again in his pocket and he takes it out to find another message from Nick. This time, though, it’s an actual message and not Nick just swearing at him.

_so you left your mobile charger here. I’d keep it for myself but I’m not a spoiled brat popstar who’s got the newest mobile the second it comes out so it doesn’t work on mine. Come pick it up if you want it, I’m not bringing it to you_

Louis laughs because _shit_. He’s been charging his mobile from his laptop all day because he thought his charger was in his bag and he just hadn't unpacked it yet, not that he'd left it behind.

_admit it, you miss my face_ Louis texts back.

_are you drunk?_ Nick answers instantly.

_Nope, just irresistible ; )_

_I’m sorry, did you say incorrigible?_

Louis rubs a hand over his mouth and tries to keep from smiling so wide. _I’m just a popstar, Grimshaw_ he types. _I don’t know what that word means_

_Just come and get your shit, princess_ Nick texts after a minute. _I’ll be in all night_.

Louis grins and grabs his coat.

*

Louis messages Harry to ask what Nick’s favorite wine is on the way over to Nick’s flat. 

_why?_ Harry answers. _what did you do to him?????_

_A gentleman never tells ; )_

_ha. Haha. Hahahahahahahahaha. Find me a gentleman and I’ll tell him what kind of wine nick likes_

_if you don’t tell me something I’ll be forced to just bring him wine in a box_ Louis sends off with a flourish. Fucking Harry; this whole thing is his fault to begin with. If Louis is spending his night buying wine for Nick Grimshaw and pining over Aimee Phillips’ dog he’s got no one to blame but Harry fucking Styles. 

_NO. DON’T. LOUIS. PLEASE DON’T._

_PLEASE DONT BRING HIM WINE IN A BOX I WILL NEVER HEAR THE END OF IT LOUIS PLEASE_

Louis smiles.

*

Louis brings not one but two boxes of wine over to Nick’s.

“Harry never mentioned if you were a fan of red or white so I decided to bring you both.” Louis plops the boxes on the counter and beams at Nick brightly. Nick looks horrified. It’s fantastic. 

“I’m actually a fan of wine that comes from a bottle, love, not a bag with a spigot.”

“Same difference.” Louis waves his hand around and goes to the cupboard to find them glasses. “Wow,” he says slowly, “this is a lot easier with things all on the proper shelves.”

Nick looks so proud Louis kind of wants to hit him. “Don’t be ridiculous; that prank was great. And anyway I’m still trying to sort my records back in order so I’m fairly certain you paid me back.” 

Louis laughs a little as he opens the box of white and pours them both a huge glass. It’s kind of silly but he feels better already just being back in Nick’s flat even for a few minutes. He looks around the kitchen and everything seems sorted again. Nick is leaning against the counter in a pair of old joggers and a worn out Nirvana t-shirt, and his hair is messy and flat. It’s quiet, though, almost too quiet, and it takes Louis a second to realize what’s missing. 

“Hey, where’s—“

And maybe Thurston hadn’t heard Louis’ voice from wherever he was hiding when Louis showed up, but he hears him now and is instantly bounding into the room, jumping and biting and yipping at Louis’ legs for Louis to pick him up. 

“T-Dog!” Louis puts his wine down and leans over to scoop the dog up. Thurston buries his face in Louis’ neck and rubs his wet nose all over Louis’ skin. Louis kisses his head and scratches behind his ears and holds his middle finger up when he hears Nick sniggering at him. 

“Do you two need a moment?” Louis looks up long enough to rolls his eyes and Nick grins. “I’ve got a spare room as you know; I can leave you alone if you need to catch up.”

“Ugh, you’re actually horrible,” Louis says. Thurston has calmed down a little and Louis holds his hand out and wiggles his fingers around. “Don’t you have a charger to give me? Let me cuddle the dog and then I’ll be off again.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick waves a hand over his head and wanders out of the kitchen only to return with Louis' charger neatly bundled into a little ball in the palm of his hand. “Here,” he hands the charger over, and Louis shoves it into his pocket. Louis finishes his wine with one hand while Thurston licks at his chin and it’s good. It’s fine, actually. It’s a lot more normal standing around with Nick in his kitchen then Louis would have expected. 

Maybe Thurston is actually a _magic_ dog. 

“So where’s Aimee?” Louis bends down to put Thurston on the floor and he scampers around a bit until Louis goes to the cupboard where his treats are, and plucks one from the bag. Nick huffs a little when Louis feeds him the treat and says, “She’s out for the night. And really, go right ahead. Go right on through my cupboards; help yourself.”

Louis blinks. “I’m sorry, are you jealous I didn’t get a treat for you?” Louis goes to bend back down and take another from the bag but Nick kicks lightly at his shin. Louis laughs and straightens, brushing his hands off on the back of his jogging bottoms. 

“All right,” Louis says. He gives Thurston one last scratch behind the ears and pats his pocket for his keys. “I suppose I’ll be going.”

“Don’t you want to stay and finish some of this lovely wine?” Nick waves his glass in the air and smiles. “I mean, you probably spent two whole pounds a box on it, I wouldn’t want to deny you a few drinks. What kind of host would that make me?”

“Oh, so you’re being a host now?” Louis cocks an eyebrow and takes another small sip. “I didn’t realize.”

Nick shrugs and wanders from the kitchen into the living room. “That’s because you’re a twat,” he calls over his shoulder. “Now come out here and bring the damn box with you. I’ll ring for a takeaway in a little while. The least you could do is hang out and drink this swill with me seeing as you brought it here, yeah?”

Louis thinks about it for a second. He could go back home; he _should_ go back home, actually. He’s not been home for days and was quite looking forward to sitting around his own flat on his own sofa watching his own telly for the night. Plus, the last thing he needs is to get even more attached to Thurston, who is at the moment clung to his trouser leg and whimpering as if he can sense Louis’ imminent departure. 

But Louis’ flat is lonely, and Nick’s is warm and comfortable and familiar by now. Plus he’s got loads of crap wine thanks to Louis ,and the promise of a takeaway and, well, maybe Grimshaw isn’t quite as bad as Louis had always thought him to be. Maybe it’s better than sitting home alone all night thinking about adopting turtles for company and drinking by himself. 

Maybe. 

“Oi, Princess, you coming or not? X Factor's on soon and I don't like to miss any of it.”

Louis laughs and grabs his wine glass and the box, Thurston trailing behind at his heels. “Shut your hole, I’ll be right there.”

*

Two days later Louis is sitting on his sofa reading a magazine, when his phone starts singing _The Bitch is Back_. Louis grins as he answers the call. 

“Nicholas!” Louis tosses the magazine to the floor and leans back into the cushions. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Ugh, I actually think I might hate you,” Nick says. It’s amazing but Louis can actually tell from over the phone that Nick is gritting his teeth. He must be psychic.

“Lies.” Louis stretches and stand up, shaking the fringe back from his face. “You love me. You love me _loads_ actually. You love me so much that—“

“I’d love you a lot more if you told me where you hid my spare set of keys, wanker,” Nick cuts in with, and what?

“Your what?”

“My _keys_ , Louis. Small things, metal. People generally use them to get into cars and flats and the like.”

Louis feels his forehead crinkle because he honestly has no idea what Nick is going on about. “Why would I have hidden your keys?”

“Oh, I don’t know. For the same reason you flushed my toothbrush down the loo, I’d suppose,” Nick cuts in with. “Starts with T and sounds like _twat_.”

Louis is barely paying attention though, because he really doesn’t remember where he put Nick’s keys and it’s bothering him. He’d hate to think that he felt _bad_ about losing something of Nick’s, but he can’t remember seeing keys or moving them or anything. Maybe he was in some kind of home wrecking fog when he did it or a mind altering euphoric state over wreaking havoc on Nick Grimshaw’s flat. 

No matter how you look at it, though, Louis has no idea where Nick’s keys are. Not a clue. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, mate. I honestly don’t know.” Louis bites his bottom lip and locates his own keys on the counter and shoves them in his pocket. He grabs a beanie from the wardrobe and sticks it on his head. “I’ll come over and help you look. Maybe something will jog my memory, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Nick says but Louis is shaking his head and locking up his flat. 

“I’ll be there in a bit.”

*

Louis is walking up to Nick’s front door when his phone rings. It’s Nick, again, and Louis is grinning when he says, “You couldn’t wait ten more seconds? I’m just about to knock at your door.”

“Yeah, um, about that.” The front door swings open and Nick is standing on the other side swinging a set of keys around his index finger.

“Oh!” Louis says happily. “You found them!”

“I did, yes.” Nick rubs the back of his neck and when he steps back to let Louis inside he manages to even look sheepish. 

“Well where were they?” Louis is curious himself; he honestly has no recollection of hiding them at all. 

“Um. My coat pocket.”

Louis cocks his head to the side, because, well, “I hid a set of your keys in your own coat? Wow, I must have been a bit more pissed that day than I remember. I mean, I only think I had a few drinks, but—“

“No, no, I mean I must have put them there myself,” Nick corrects. Thurston comes bounding down the hall and jumps up onto Louis’s leg; Nick has to raise his voice to be heard over the ecstatic barking. “Sorry. I guess you didn’t hide them at all.”

And god, Louis is _so glad_ about that. “Mate, I don’t care that you just misplaced them, I’ve spent the entire trip over here thinking I'd lost my mind because I didn’t even remember touching them. I’m just glad I’ve not officially lost it or anything.”

“I never said anything about that, Tomlinson,” Nick shakes his head and wanders into the kitchen. “Don’t give yourself so much credit.”

Louis ignores him and concentrates on petting Thurston and tossing one of his toys down the hall for the dog to go get and bring back to him. He hears a pan being moved in the kitchen, and then the clink of glasses and his stomach rumbles, reminding him he hasn’t eaten dinner yet. Maybe on his way home he’ll stop and pick something up. The idea of going home first and then starting to cook doesn’t sound appealing at all. 

“Have you eaten?” Nick sticks his head out the kitchen door. He’s holding a wooden spoon in his hand that’s dripping red sauce onto the floor. Thurston skids over and starts slurping it up happily. 

“Not yet, I was going to stop on my way home and pick something up.”

Nick rolls his eyes and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve already set you a place in here. Come and grab a couple of glasses before you sit down, yeah? I’ll even open an actual bottle of wine for you tonight.”

Louis smiles. “Aww, you like me! You really, really like me!” He knows he’s teasing but it feels good all the same. 

“You’re horrible,” he hears Nick says. “Now are you coming or not?” 

Louis scoops up the dog from where he’s lying on the floor outside the kitchen, and goes to grab some glasses.

*

“So I’ve got to tell you I wasn’t quite expecting _this_ when I asked you to do me a favor.” Harry’s drumming his fingers against the table they’re sat at in the pub. He’s also wiggling his eyebrows and nodding his head and grinning as if Louis has any earthly idea what he’s talking about. 

“Um, you all right, Haz?” Louis sips his beer and watches as Harry rolls his eyes and sighs. “You’re not having a seizure of some sort are you? Shall I ring NHS Direct?”

“Tosser.” Harry kicks Louis’ ankle under the table and steals a handful of chips from Louis’ plate. Louis glares and tries to stab him with his fork but he’s too late. Fucking Harry. “And stop acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about, when you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about. You know what I’m talking about?” 

Louis freezes with his burger halfway to his mouth. “Was that in some kind of code?” 

“Oh, Lou,” Harry sighs dramatically. “Lou, Lou, Lou. If anyone should be acting weird right now, it should be me, you know. After all I’m the one who’s been thrown aside by not one, but _both_ of my best mates. If I didn’t think the way you fancy each other was so fun I’d be a lot crosser at the whole situation.”

And _what_?

“What?” Louis puts his burger down and leans forward so he can lower his voice. “Harry, I don’t—I don’t _fancy_ , Nick Grimshaw, ugh. And I can assure you he doesn’t fancy me either. We’re…” 

Louis bites his lip because what _are_ he and Nick actually? They’ve been hanging out together more and more often lately but it’s mostly to eat and drink wine and slag off X Factor contestants. Nick’s home has custody of Louis’ favorite dog and maybe sometimes they seem to have fun together, but it’s not anything more than that. It’s certainly not any kind of _thing_ like Harry’s set on implying.

“We’re mates,” he finally finishes with. Harry rolls his eyes. “What! We are!”

“You’re mates, sure, but you fancy each other too. No!” Harry pouts, cutting Louis off when he opens his mouth to protest. “Don’t deny it! If you didn’t fancy each other you’d call me to come and hang out with you two instead of going out on _dates_ all the time without me.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “Are you serious?” He digs his mobile from his pocket and scrolls to read out loud his recent texts sent to Harry. 

“ _Haz, out with Nick at the pub, why don’t you join us?_

_Harry, Nick’s making food and we’re watching XF in ten, come over._

_H, Nick is making a trifle PLEASE HELP_ ”

Harry at least has the decency to look abashed. 

“See?” he mopes after a minute. “Dates. Loads and loads of dates that you felt guilty enough about to try and invite me to join you on. Well I’m sorry, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry sniffs, “But I’m just not that kind of boy.”

If Louis didn’t’ know any better he’d think he was somehow transported into another dimension. “But you _are_ that kind of boy. Do I need to remind you of the time that you and Niall and Zayn—“

“All right, all right, I get your point, fine,” Harry covers his ears. “And I meant I’m not that type of guy with you and Nick. Ugh. Just thinking about it weirds me out.”

Louis shrugs. He has no idea why they’re even having this conversation. He and Nick aren’t going out with each other, they don’t want to be going out with each other and they’re not _going_ to be going out with each other. Harry’s insane.

“And what about aunt Judy’s silver wedding party, yeah?” Harry kicks Louis’ ankle again and scowls. “I’m always invited to those kind of things; Eileen loves me.”

“And now she loves me,” Louis says firmly. “My god, Harry, are you _jealous_?”

“What? No.” Harry shakes his head, curls bouncing. “I just. No. Of course not.”

“Aww.” Louis pats Harry’s hand and bats his eyelashes. “Poor widdle Hazza. You want me to ask Nick if you can come along? I’m only going with him as a joke. Eileen asked me and Nick was so bent about it at first I couldn’t take it back, but I don’t care much if I go or not.”

“Lies,” Harry sighs dramatically. “All lies, I’m sure you’re thrilled about going. Anyway, I can’t.” He flaps a hand in the air dismissively. “I told Nick I’d stay at his and watch the dog, because Aimee’s going up for the party too, and Thurston doesn’t like to stay alone.”

And…this is news. “But Thurston hates you!”

“He doesn’t _hate_ me,” Harry pouts. “We get along fine. And anyway, how do you know? Do you and he chat regularly?”

Louis would tell Harry that he does chat with Thurston pretty frequently. That he and Thurston have their own thing going on. He realizes that even in his head that sounds a little bit mad. Louis does know one thing though: Thurston is not going to be pleased when they all leave him alone with Harry for the weekend. No siree.

“I’m not talking about this anymore,” Louis says primly and plucks his glass from the table to finish off his pint. 

*

Louis is sat in the back of Nick’s car with his face pressed between the two front seats singing along to some crap local radio station with Aimee as loudly as they can. Aimee reaches over her shoulder to ruffle Louis’ hair and Louis beams more the longer Nick scowls at the road. 

“It’s not too late for me to leave you both on the side of the motorway,” Nick says flatly. 

Louis laughs and Aimee rolls her eyes. “I’d just call your mum, and she’d send out your dad, and he’d pick us both up, and you'd end up being disowned,” she flicks the window open. “Don’t even pretend you don’t know it’s true.”

Louis assumes that Nick’s angry grunting is as much agreement that they’re going to get. 

“And anyway, this is going to be fun, Grimmy,” Aimee continues. “Your family parties are always great, and we have Louis with us now too! So even more fun, yeah?”

“Oh, that’s right, we have _Louis_ ,” Nick puts on an overly excited tone and lifts his hands off the steering wheel to flap around psychotically in the car. “Yay, oh my god, Louis Tomlinson is coming with us! Because, you know, he’s so _funny_ and _fit_ and a _way_ better time than that utter twat Harry Styles, yeah? We’re just so _lucky_!”

“Oi, piss off,” Louis smacks Nick on the head. 

Nick looks up into the rearview mirror to catch Louis’ eye, and when Louis notices Nick, he smiles a little, a small one, but one of the realest one’s Louis has ever seen and he knows Nick is teasing. Louis pats the side of Nick’s arm where he can reach and leaves his hand there a beat longer than necessary. He’s worried a bit because Harry does always go to these things and Louis really doesn’t want to intrude. He hates being uncertain about it, whether or not Nick wants him there. He thinks its ok, but still. 

“Hey.” Nick reaches up to pat Louis’ hand where it’s still resting in his arm. “I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Me too,” Aimee twirls her hand around in the air, her nails tapping against the window. “Don’t tell Harry I said it, but the last party we went to together he was dead boring.”

“So is that the only reason I’m coming then?” Louis asks. “For entertainment?”

Nick shrugs. “If the elfin shoes fit, mate,” he drones and Louis pinches his arm until he’s yelping out curses and shoving Louis away.

Louis rolls his eyes and smiles.

*

The party is being held in probably the only posh hotel in Oldham. They park the car in a side street opposite the hotel, and the three of them walk in and find the room where the DJ is already setting up, and a bunch of people are milling around with drinks in their hands. Aimee spots Nick’s sister and bounds off the minute they get there, and it’s not until Louis realizes that they’re heading toward a small table in the corner that Nick is bringing him over to meet his mum and dad, and Louis is instantly, weirdly nervous. 

“Nicholas!” An elegantly dressed woman stands up and Louis recognizes her voice instantly. She wraps Nick in a tight hug and kisses his cheek loudly. Nick flaps his hands and pretends to suffocate and she smacks the back of his head hard enough that Louis can hear it from where he’s standing. He’s kind of in love with her already. “Ok, I’ve had enough of you now,” she shoves Nick to the side and gives Louis a long, appraising look. “You must be Nick’s Louis.”

“Hello, Eileen,” Louis smiles his most winning smile and hugs her back when she wraps her arms around him. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“And you, of course.” She holds Louis at arm’s length and thwacks Nick across the shoulder. “I can’t believe you kept your new beau from me,” she scolds. “Imagine having to hear from Louis _on the mobile_ that you have a new boyfriend. Horrible. You’re a horrible man, Nicholas Grimshaw. I’m certain I raised you better.”

And, oh. Um.

“Oh, my new boyfriend, yeah?” Louis has to hand it to him; all of his years of radio training have really helped Nick mask the complete shock in his voice. He focuses his eyes on Louis and tilts his head to the side. Louis can actually feel the way Nick is staring at him. “I can imagine how surprising it must be hearing that for the first time. Shocking, actually. It almost feels like I’m experiencing it right now.”

Thankfully Nick’s mum has turned her attention away from them, because Louis is fairly certain this conversation might not be one she wants to hear. 

“Oh, yeah,” Louis says slowly. He’d nearly forgotten. “Haha. About that.”

Louis doesn’t manage to get anything else out, though, before Nick’s fingers are tight around Louis’ wrist and he’s dragging him over to an empty table. Louis trips over his feet to keep up; bloody Nick Grimshaw and his stupidly long legs. 

“Sit,” Nick points to a chair and glares. 

Louis narrows his eyes. “Woof,” he says snidely, and when Nick’s eyes widen Louis lifts his chin and breathes sharply through his nose. He understands Nick is surprised but really, that doesn’t give him free reign to act like such a twat.

Apparently Nick never got that message.

“So it might have taken me a while, but I understand about my mum inviting you to the party now,” Nick finally says. Louis catches Aimee’s eye from across the room where she’s making worried faces at them and motioning if Louis wants her to come over. Louis shakes his head sharply and looks away. “I mean, my mum loves people, and she’s always on about meeting my friends and all, but I just - why the bloody hell did you tell her we were boyfriends? And why didn’t you tell me that you _told_ her that?”

“I didn’t really tell her that, all right?” Louis snaps. He’s kind of annoyed at the situation himself - not because Nick’s mum thinks they’re boyfriends, but more because why is Nick so pissed off because she does? Would it really be so awful? Why is Nick acting like such a dick about it? And more importantly, why does Louis care? 

“When I was on the phone with her that day when you were away she assumed that we were going out and I just…didn’t correct her,” Louis finally says. 

Nick lifts his hands palms up. “Well why not?”

“I don’t know!” Louis runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the fringe with his fingers. “At the time I thought it was funny and then I kind of forgot it happened and I don’t know; it was just stupid I suppose. It doesn’t mean anything; it was just a stupid joke.”

Nick laughs quietly and shakes his head. “I’ll say.”

And that just – that bothers him. Louis still doesn’t know why but this whole conversation is setting him on edge. “Wow. Sorry,” he spits, for the first time not caring how nasty he sounds. “I know I’m not one of your bloody Diesel models but I guess for tonight you’ll just have to slum it.”

Nick looks shocked. He backs up as if Louis’ words were a slap, then stands there staring at him and not saying a word. By the time Aimee comes over, Louis is more than happy to pretend he’s got a phone call to answer and spends the next five minutes trying to keep his hands from shaking while he paces the halls.

*

He and Nick call a silent truce by the time Louis joins him and Aimee again, and Louis even manages to enjoy the party. Nick’s dad is as nice as his mum, and Louis gets on great with Nick’s sister and niece. His aunt and uncle are thrilled to have a famous pop star at their party, and when Nick puts his arm around Louis and brushes his fingers through Louis’ hair, Louis accepts it for the apology he knows it’s supposed to be.

Nick starts touching Louis a lot more when he comes back from the bar; just small touches, nothing huge. First it’s a hand on the sleeve of Louis’ jacket and then a small tangle of their fingers when Nick brings him a drink. He’s watching Louis more too, so wherever Louis goes, he can feel Nick’s eyes on him; as he dances with Aimee and then Nick’s mum and sister and niece. Louis looks up and finds Nick watching him while he’s at the bar chatting to the barman as he gets their drinks.

And Louis knows it’s because his mum thinks they’re boyfriends so Nick’s playing up to what she’s expecting to see – he gets that - but it feels like more than that, almost. It’s like Nick is really concerned about Louis and where he is and if he’s having a good time and Louis is confused a little and happy a little bit more. It’s not bad having all of Nick’s attention on him like he’d always thought it would be. It’s actually kind of nice.

Halfway through the evening, Louis is standing by himself, watching Nick’s aunt and uncle recreate their first dance when Nick slides up from behind him, curling one hand around Louis’ hip and dropping his chin onto Louis’ shoulder. Louis instinctively leans back into Nick’s warmth and Nick curls his fingers in tighter. 

“Having fun?” Nick says quietly. The puff of air blows Louis hair a little and tickles his throat. 

“Fair to middling,” Louis says around a smile. 

He can feel the vibration of Nick’s laughter against his back and it makes Louis brave. He puts his hand on top of Nick’s where it’s resting on his hip and squeezes. 

They stand there until the song is over and they have to break apart to clap along with everyone else for the guests of honor. “I’ll go get us more drinks then,” Nick says. “See if we can’t elevate your opinion of the party, yeah?”

“Yeah, all right.” Louis turns around and smiles and just as he’s about to walk away Nick leans in close and leans down to whisper against Louis’ ear. 

“And for the record, you’re prettier than any bloody Diesel model,” Nick says quietly, then walks away.

*

Louis escapes after Nick heads to the bar, because he needs a minute to himself. He finds the same hallway he was in earlier and spends a few minutes texting Harry about how great the party is, just to see how many times he can make Harry respond with nothing but _Heyyy_ and a frowny face emoticon.

So far he’s up to seventeen.

Louis hears footsteps and when he looks up, Nick’s coming around the corner, a slightly confused look on his face. “You all right, love?”

Nick seems genuinely concerned and Louis feels bad for running off on him. His cheeks are flushed and he’s fiddling with his hair, his styled quiff deflating a bit as the evening's gone on. He looks _good_ though, is the thing, all dressed up in a black suit with a bright blue shirt and skinny tie and god, if Louis has already started to fancy Nick Grimshaw without realizing it he might actually need some kind of medical attention. Possibly a lobotomy; maybe his brain’s gone missing.

“I texted Harry to see how he’s doing with Thurston,” Louis says quickly, because it’s as good an excuse as any. “He says things are fine but I’m not so sure. If we get back tomorrow and Thurston’s got him tied up in the spare bedroom with an extension lead I won’t be surprised.”

Nick laughs and it’s so loud and bright it feels like it fills the whole hallway. Louis loves Nick’s laugh; it reminds him of Harry when Harry laughs so hard at something he actually startles himself, but where Harry is still self-conscious enough to try and cover his mouth when it happens and somehow make it smaller, Nick just lets it go. He lets himself laugh and shout and swear as loud as he wants, as big as he can, and Louis wants to be around him whenever he does. Wants to stand close enough that some of Nick’s inhibitions spill from Nick’s skin and seep into Louis’. 

Louis gets lost in his head for long enough that he doesn’t notice how quiet the hall gets. He slips his mobile into his pocket and looks up to find Nick leaning against the wall next to him, close enough that their shoulders could touch if Louis leaned even a little to the side. He holds himself back and digs his fingertips into the tops of his thighs. 

“I guess we should go back in,” Louis says quietly.

He hears Nick grunt but he doesn’t look up, can’t lift his head for some reason. The air around them feels thick and Louis is frozen a bit, not because he _doesn’t_ know what it feels like is happening but more because he _does_. He takes a step forward and Nick grabs his wrist; pulls him back and turns Louis so they’re facing each other. Nick’s eyes are so dark and his lashes fan out against his cheeks when he looks down at where he’s holding Louis’ hand.

“I wasn’t upset before, you know,” Nick slides his hand down until their fingers are tangling and Louis sucks in a breath. “When my mum said we were boyfriends.”

Louis licks his lips. “Oh?”

“No.” Nick shakes his head. When he looks up and catches Louis’ eye, Louis is frozen to the spot. “I was surprised, a little. You can’t spring things on me like that, Tomlinson, I’m old,” he says around a laugh, “but I wasn’t upset.”

Louis should say something. He knows he should say something – life and history and common courtesy dictate that he should say something – but his tongue actually feels frozen in his mouth. It’s just a normal conversation but it’s not; he can somehow hear every single thing Nick’s not saying, and then Nick goes and makes it even harder by opening his mouth and saying them anyway.

“Surprisingly enough, I’d kind of be ok with it,” he tells Louis quietly, and Louis can’t take it, he physically cannot take another minute of standing here and thinking and listening and talking. He and Nick are good. They’ve talked enough. They’re probably talked enough for a hundred people, and now it’s time for Louis to fucking _do_ something about it, so he leans forward and kisses him. 

Nick freezes and Louis pulls back instantly. “Are you kidding me?” Louis asks. He twists his fingers in Nick’s hair and yanks Nick’s head down to bite at the corner of his jaw. Nick hisses low in his throat and arousal claws deep and hot in Louis’ belly. “Are you somehow shocked that I kissed you? You can’t tell me this is a surprise; I won’t believe you’re that stupid.” Nick laughs a little at that and Louis leans back to scrunch his face up. “Well, wait a second, actually maybe you are that stupid—“

“Oi, are you trying to pull me or not, princess?” Nick splutters, “Because calling me stupid might not be the best way to go about it.”

“Oh god, blah blah, this is ridiculous like everything else is with the two of us.” Louis steps away and twines his fingers with Nick’s, dragging him down the hall. Nick crowds up behind him, biting at the side of Louis’ neck and sliding his hands under Louis’ jacket to yank Louis’s shirt from his trousers and Louis is just looking for a door, some kind of door that opens preferably to a cupboard or an empty room or anything really. He just needs a place where he can—“Oh look,” he says and pushes on the first unlocked door he manages to find. It’s a housekeeping cupboard of some sort, shelves filled with towels and little bars of soap and bin bags. 

“It’s perfect,” Nick breathes happily and closes the door behind them. “Now get your trousers off.”

“Nick Grimshaw, what kind of a man do you think I am?” Louis is laughing as he says it, and then Nick pushes him around a bit, shoves him into the corner of the room and looks down at him with dark eyes, his lips wet and soft. 

“God, Louis, _shut up_ ,” he says and leans in to kiss him and Louis honestly doesn’t have a word left to say. 

Nick kisses like he does everything else, which is to say bossy and loud. He takes Louis’ face in his hands, angles his head the way he likes and then licks into Louis’ mouth like he’s giving Louis no other choice but to kiss him back as hard as he can. There’s nothing sweet or questioning about it; Nick wants him and Louis can tell and that alone is the hottest thing Louis has had happen to him in a good long time.

It feels like his hands are everywhere and when Louis finally catches up he shoves Nick back, ready to give as good as he can take it. He pushes Nick’s jacket from his shoulders and then they’re both panting and swearing at each other, kisses turning to bites, touches turning to bruises. 

Nick sucks a hot mark on Louis’ skin under the collar of his shirt and Louis pays him back, dragging his nails over the skin of Nick’s belly and sides, digging his fingers in until Nick whimpers and bites at Louis’ lip. He wants to feel Nick’s skin so badly he could scream and he’s getting hard already, desperate and needy and stupid just from snogging Nick in a bloody cupboard. 

“Tomorrow when we get back to my flat we’ll do this properly,” Nick flicks the button and zip on Louis trousers and then he’s reaching in and pulling out Louis’ prick, his fingers working him over hot and rough. Louis takes a second to shove Nick’s trousers off, dropping his head onto Nick’s chest when he pulls his cock out and whimpering at the sight of the two of them in Nick’s hand. 

He tries to memorize the feel of Nick’s fingers around them, Nick’s cock sliding up against his own. Louis squeezes his eyes shut and mouths at the soft cotton of Nick’s shirt and when he comes he tries to be quiet, biting down as Nick’s collarbone as he does. Nick curses when Louis uses his own spunk as slick to strip Nick even faster. Louis wants to watch him come so badly he can’t think of anything else, and it doesn’t take much, just a few hard tugs and a rough swipe of his thumb over the head of Nick’s cock and then Nick’s spilling into his hand, the both of them panting and boneless, leaning against a rack of towels. 

Louis gives himself a second to catch his breath and then he’s pulling back and shaking the hair away from his eyes. He wonders what he’s going to find when he catches Nick’s eye: will he be weird and quiet or loud and acting as if nothing happened?

It’s neither, of course, because Nick is nothing if not confusing. “Well,” he says cheerily as he grabs a towel from the rack behind his head. “At least it was a convenient location, clean up wise.”

“That’s how I usually choose my locations to be honest,” Louis wipes his hands and stomach when Nick hands him the towel. He tucks himself back into his trousers, and tries to fix his hair the best he can. He thinks it’s fairly obvious what they’re been up to if you really look at them, but hopefully most of the people left at the party will be too pissed to tell. 

“Oh really,” Nick sniffs and pretends to look hurt. “And here I thought I was special.”

“Never,” Louis tells him, but the smile on his face probably clues Nick into the fact that he’s lying.

*

By the time they get back to Nick’s flat late the next day, Aimee has complained so much about her hangover that if Nick had suggested even one more time to leave her on the side of the road Louis would have helped unload her body. He’s a bit hungover himself, but just enough to make him doze quietly in the backseat with a pair of sunglasses on and a beanie pulled down low over his hair. Aimee’s constant moaning and whining is driving Louis mad. 

Nick parks the car, then Louis grabs the bags while Aimee trudges to the front door. She gets it unlocked and they all fall inside in a tangle of limbs and luggage. Thurston hears them come in, and the next thing Louis knows, the dog is making a beeline down the hall towards them, Harry’s orange beanie clutched firmly between his teeth. He skids to a stop at Louis’ feet, drops the beanie on the floor and pushes it forward with his nose. 

Nick rubs his chin and frowns. “Well that’s ominous.”

Louis scoops Thurston up and scratches the back of his neck. Thurston barks and wiggles in Louis’ arms and just over the ruckus Louis can pick up Harry’s low moans and whimpers from one of the guest rooms. 

“Lassie, did Timmy fall down the well?” Louis asks. Nick laughs and Aimee even manages a giggle before kissing Thurston on the head and shuffling down the hall toward her room. 

“Don’t wake me up until Tuesday,” she calls, and shuts the door.

Louis and Nick manage to locate Harry lying diagonally across one of the guest beds, arms and legs splayed wide and staring up at the ceiling. “That dog hates me,” he whimpers. Louis kisses the dog on the head and says, “T-Dog is very smart. He can sense a twat from twenty paces.”

Harry barely looks like he has the energy to flip Louis off. He manages a half-hearted one fingered salute over his head and rubs his eyes with the other hand. “How was the party?” 

Louis instantly feels his face heat and he can hear Nick shuffling his feet and clearing his throat awkwardly beside him. 

“Erm,” Louis says.

“Great,” Nick interrupts. “Fantastic. No one asked about you or missed you at all, Styles.”

Harry sits up and frowns. “Not even Eileen?”

“Nope. I’ve traded you in for a better model,” Nick answers, and Louis knows what he means, but his brain hears the word _model_ and he remembers Nick’s comment about Louis being pretty, which in turn leads to Louis remembering being in the hall with Nick, and kissing Nick, and getting each other off in a broom cupboard with Nick and, well.

The tips of Louis’ ears feel like they’re on fire.

Harry’s gaze flicks back and forth between the two of them, his eyebrows pinched in a frown, and _shit_.

“Anyway, Haz, do you think you can give me a life to my flat?” Louis feels Nick flinch next to him and he knows he’s being a dick, he knows it. They never said for sure but Nick implied last night that he wanted to be with Louis again and now they’re here together in Nick’s flat but Louis just – he needs some time to think, is all. 

“I suppose.” Harry sounds skeptical. 

“I could always give you a lift if you need,” Nick adds and Louis turns to him and manages to paste on his best _everything’s great, I’m great, you should be great too_ smile. Nick doesn’t look like he’s buying it for a second. Harry looks like he wants to set Louis on fire with his mind. 

“Lemme just grab my bag,” Harry says and slips off the bed and out the door. 

The room is quiet just long enough for the silence to feel uncomfortable and Louis scratches Thurston’s head one last time and puts him down on the floor. “Thanks for taking me to the party,” Louis says quietly. Nick frowns. “I had a great time.”

“Right,” Nick says softly. He rolls his eyes a little and Louis hates to think he’s done something to hurt Nick’s feelings – he would talk about it with Nick if he and Nick were the kinds of people to talk about their feelings – but Nick seems to shake himself out of it quickly enough, punching Louis on the shoulder and saying, “You should probably escape before Thurston sees you leaving. He’s always a mopey little twat when you go.”

Louis forces a smile one more time. “Right,” he says and goes to get his bag from the hall. “I’ll remember that.”

*

“So Nick says he hasn’t talked to you in three days.”

Louis is sat in the pub again with Harry, who’s done nothing but huff and sigh and glare at Louis from the minute he sat down. To say it’s been one of the least fun meals out of Louis’ life would be an understatement. 

“So what?” Louis drags one of his chips through some ketchup and nibbles on the end. “We’re not attached at the hip or anything.”

“No, but you like him,” Harry says. He’s leaned forward over the table, palms pressed flat against the wood. “I know you, Louis, and you like him. You like him as a mate and you fancy him and I don’t know what happened at the party that night, but since you’ve been back you’ve been avoiding him like a fucking wanker, and I want to know why.”

Louis sighs. Harry’s right. He has been avoiding Nick. He didn’t actually start out to do it, but when Nick texted Louis the night that they got home to see if Louis wanted to come over and watch X Factor taped from the night before, Louis just didn’t answer. It’s not as if he wasn’t answering just to be a dick, but he honestly didn’t know what to say. 

_Did_ he want to go to Nick’s to watch telly and drink wine and probably have a takeaway and most likely get off with each other on the sofa? Yes. Yes he did. _Should_ he want to do that, though? Did _Nick_ want to do that? _Why_ were they doing that? These were all harder questions; questions that Louis emphatically did not have the answer to.

Not answering one text led to not answering two, and then three, and then Nick stopped texting at all, not that Louis could blame him. Louis would probably not even have given Nick three chances if their positions were reversed, which goes to show that Nick is somehow nicer than Louis, and that thought makes Louis want to jump off a bridge, because since when has he been thinking Nick Grimshaw is nice? And kind of sweet? 

Basically Louis fancies Nick rather a lot, and the thought that Nick fancies him back and that they could possibly make a proper go at something scares the piss out of him. 

Harry throws a handful of chips at Louis’ head and kicks his leg under the table. 

“Don’t be a dick, Lou,” Harry says quietly. His eyes are wide and green and so fucking sincere Louis could puke. He hates that Harry’s been right about this all along. “Nick’s a good guy and so are you. You both deserve this, so just don’t fuck it up, yeah?”

Louis flops back in his chair and lets his arms hang uselessly at his sides. “I think I already did, Haz,” he moans. 

Harry kicks him again and reaches for his coat. “Not if you get off your stupid arse and go do something about it,” he says, so Louis goes.

*

Louis only has to knock at Nick’s door fifteen times before Nick answers, glaring at him hard enough that Louis nearly rethinks his whole plan. Maybe it was better when he and Nick weren’t speaking at all. It definitely seems like it was safer. 

“Oh, look,” Nick chides. “You do remember the way to my flat. Or did you just leave out a trail of breadcrumbs the last time you were here?”

Louis rolls his eyes and pushes inside. “Fine. I deserve that.”

Nick snorts and closes the door behind him. He leans back against it and crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not the most welcoming sight Louis has ever seen.

“So I’ve been a twat,” Louis says without preamble. 

“Wow,” Nick drones. “Should I alert the media? Oh, wait, that’s’ right, I _am_ the media. Maybe I’ll just ring Tina now and have her add it to the morning news tomorrow. _Louis Tomlinson, pop star, is a mega twat_. It has a nice ring to it actually.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You know, you’re _actually_ impossible,” he says. There’s a shuffling and a barking from down the hall and then Thurston comes running out, jumping around at Louis’ feet. Louis scoops him up and scratches his head. Nick rolls his eyes. “Are you honestly making faces at the _dog_ now?” This might actually be their most ridiculous conversation yet. Louis wasn’t sure it was possible, but Nick glaring at both Louis and Thurston for cuddling in his hall might be the stupidest thing he’s ever experienced.

“All right, listen,” Louis says. He puts Thurston on the floor and takes Nick’s hands in his, pulling him away from the door and into Louis’ space. “Here’s how it is: I like you, kind of a lot, so if you don’t like me as well or if you’re going to be a wanker about it let me know now so I can tell you to fuck off properly.”

Nick is shocked speechless. “ _Wow_ ,” he finally manages. He’s smiling though so Louis is going to count it as a win. “Dead romantic, Tomlinson. Catch me before I faint.”

Louis laughs a little and rocks up on his toes to kiss the corner of Nick’s mouth. Nick pulls him closer, his arms wrapping tight around Louis’ shoulders, his chest solid and warm against Louis’. “I’m not going to do romantic, Nick,” Louis says honestly, “and I don’t want it from you. Well, not all the time at least,” he adds, because sure, romantic can be ok a little bit at least. “I just want you and me like we always are, only better if that makes sense.”

“So what,” Nick asks, kissing the top of Louis head. “I don’t have to buy you flowers or take you to nice places or get you presents or anything?”

Louis glares. “I never said that.”

“And I suppose your idea of not being romantic would be what: coming over and flushing my toothbrush in the toilet once a week and giving my flatmate's dog more hugs than me?” Nick asks.

Louis sighs and laughs and kisses Nick hard, twisting his fingers in Nick’s hair and licking hotly into his mouth. “Well I have heard that he turns into a mopey twat when I’m not around, so yeah, I think I owe the dog some more hugs,” he jokes. 

Nick takes Louis hand and slides their fingers together before leading him down the hall. “You’re an idiot,” he says fondly. His eyes are sparkling and he’s grinning wider than Louis has ever seen. He honestly doesn’t remember ever seeing Nick look this happy, and the idea that Louis did that, that Louis could _do_ that makes his heart do a funny squeezing thing in his chest. “I don’t know why I like you at all.”

“I don’t know why I like you either,” Louis says and smiles and follows, because he’s pretty sure this is going to be great.

 

-end-


End file.
